| Yo this flow here is bulimics, anemic, yo red beam it
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| Plus I got it on, you ain’t never seen it, never seen it
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| Some people say I’m conceited, but dougie I never cheated
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| Oh boy you’ll get deleted, believe it, I could achieve it cuz look
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| Im on a Yamaha, laughing like ha ha ha
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| Na na na, want to talk, shots speak ra ra ra
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| Crib is like mardigra, no beads grow weed
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| Court case, courtside, nigga in the nose bleeds
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| OG, Goatee, proceed, whole Ki’s
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| Sorta like a janitor, stay within a parameter
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| Niggas got the hammer bra, don’t care about a camera
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| Could they put that dress off, first like grand ma ma
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| Hope you got the stamina, because niggas be on worst
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| Blow reefa, no sneaker, thought this was a converse
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| I told baby girl damn that’s a hard purse
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| But you gotta get it in flavors girl like starburst
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| We counting money, yo doggie we couting money
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| Yo shit ain’t even funny, but look at we counting money
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| Yo stupid up on the stoope, the game is in a stoope
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| Cuz look we get chalupa, cha cha cha cha cha cha chalupa love
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| Winter time, I’m heated why they frigid
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| Lenox ave boy working with 8 digits
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| Summer time came through in our may blizzaards
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| Old ladies looking like damn they did it
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| Cuz huh, I got to forty fifth just to get a snack box
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| 2 piece, apple pie, feds taking snap shots
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| They know I’m known for hot rims, fast drops
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| Big trucks, big jewels, whys from the have nots
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| Now every pocket on my clothing dawg, have knots
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| 10, 20, 30, 40, 50 thousand; |
| jack pot
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| Call my block gravel, (why) its mad rocks
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| Im the owner of the team, fuck the mascot
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| Sucking mad cock, 650 rag top
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| Damn, don’t get hit with the jab that my dad got
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| Yall sasquatch, put it on your laptop
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| Yo not a door, but yessir its pad locked
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| We do the interstate, baby where the state patrol
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| With 50lbs, and I ain’t talking bout an eight year old
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| It can take a toll, hoping you can get parole
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| Play your role, the heat is so hot it can make you cold
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| And they say ima son of a bitch
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| Why, cuz I be with your son and your bitch
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| You don’t deserve her, your fair we won’t hurt her
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| We taught her to be a squirter, your sons about murder
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| Your brother well he my worker, your sister well she my slurper
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| Your mom her ass is fat, my niggas they call her bertha
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| Once a week they might server her, with dick they gon serve her
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| Now she whining like a baby, well maybe we’ll get her gerber
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| Smack her on her ass, warm milk, then we burp her
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| Yeah we left her nurtured, but well earth her, before we chirp her
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| You’ll be a punching bag, fam well put our beats on her
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| Or the Klu klux, white sheet on her
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| Or Miami jersey put the heat on her
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| Or a door mate I’m gone put my feet on her
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| Creep on em, leap on em
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| Yeah park the jeep on em
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| Americas most wanted, with no warrant! |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Chalupa , by - Cam'Ron. Song from the album Crime Pays, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп